


all for nothing at all

by rebelkato



Series: broken dreams timeline [2]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Sleepy Bois Inc, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Dadza, Found Family, Gen, Ghosts, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mentioned TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Mentioned Wilbur Soot, Non-Canonical, Phil Watson-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Winged Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), alternate chapter, brief mention of blood/violence, or previously winged whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-14 22:27:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29053623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelkato/pseuds/rebelkato
Summary: After his sons have died and he's lost his wings, Phil is reduced to training in a clearing in the woods, by himself, in the desperate hope that he can get his revenge.One day, he gets a very unexpected visitor.
Relationships: Ranboo & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Technoblade & Phil Watson, Toby Smith | Tubbo & Phil Watson
Series: broken dreams timeline [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2131536
Comments: 6
Kudos: 87





	all for nothing at all

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! Quick explanation needed for this one: This is basically an alternate second chapter to my other fic, broken dreams and shattered wings. You don't necessarily need to read that one in order to understand this one, though a few things might not make sense. 
> 
> If you do want to read it, you can read the other work in this series or read it [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28347570/chapters/69453369)
> 
> Also, title is from the song Murders by Miracle Musical
> 
> Thank you for being here, I hope you enjoy!!

_One, two._

Phil’s sword hit the straw dummy in a simple rhythm, little specks of hay puffing from the seams at the impact. The sunlight peeking through the trees above him cast the little clearing beside his house in ever-shifting shadows, dappled and simple. 

_One, two._

He swung again, his feet kicking up loose dirt as he tried something a little more complicated and fumbled it. _Damn._

He paused, attempting to catch his breath and reset. Frustration was starting to cast its shadow over his mind with each failed maneuver. He couldn’t do this, why was this so _difficult_ for him. It had never been this hard before. 

If only he had his wings. If only he had been _stronger_ , both for himself and for…them. 

He shook his head, pushing back the guilt and grief, and turning it to anger, lunging forward, trying again. 

_One, two._

He slipped.

“ _Fuck!”_ He spat, taking a step back and dropping his sword, the clang it made as it hit the ground resonating with his inner turmoil. Why was he so _weak._

“Having some trouble there, Phil?” 

Phil froze, the familiarity of that voice washing over him, halting all activity in his brain. He whirled, stunned into silence, unable to fully take in the details of his surroundings. 

He had to absorb things slowly. The dotted shadows of the leaves, the jaunty grin, the rich red cape, fluttering slightly in a phantom wind. Pink hair, loosely bound in a single braid, and eyes twinkling with knowledge and mischief. 

“Techno?” He breathed, joy flooding his chest, warm and cozy and something he hadn’t felt in a while. 

“Don’t look so surprised, Phil. It’s just me.” That it was. Phil grinned, he couldn’t help it. Count on Techno to come back from the dead and pretend like it was absolutely nothing. 

“What are you doing here? You-”

“Died? Yeah, I’m aware. I told ya, Phil, Technoblade never dies.” Phil chuckled at the grand phrase, but it was clear that the jokes were covering up something. The humor coming from both of them was just a bad act, pretending things were completely fine. 

But the initial shock at seeing Techno was fading, allowing the guilt to come crashing in around him. He had done this. If he had been stronger, Techno would still be alive. 

Techno seemed to notice his face fall and guess the reason behind it, he had always been good at reading people. 

“It was bound to happen, Phil.” Rational, as he always was. “It was worth it, considering you’re still standing here, fighting.”

Phil sighed, walking forward. “It’s a sacrifice I will never forget. But it should have been me.” He placed a hand on Techno’s shoulder, offering a comforting touch like he had when he was a teenager, training with a sword to appease the voices. 

Or, he tried to, at least. 

His hand simply phased through Techno’s form. 

Guilt, chilling and all-consuming, washed over him, mixing with his own in a horrifying combination that seemed to weigh his _soul_ down, taking over his thoughts and trapping him in a loop of regret and self-hatred. 

He pulled his hand back quickly, sure that his face mirrored Techno’s eyes widened in shock and confusion. 

“What…” Phil muttered, brain whirling with so so many questions. 

“Why am I not like Wilbur?” Techno stared at his slightly opaque hands, so clearly caught off guard. That was a very good question, but something else was eating away at Phil’s mind. 

“Why the guilt?” 

Techno glanced at him, face falling completely blank. “What do you mean?” 

Phil was pretty sure that Techno knew exactly what he meant, but he clarified anyway. “You said yourself, after Wilbur’s spirit came back, that you thought touching a ghost transferred their dying emotion to you. Because when I made contact with Will, I was stuck with this overpowering sense of relief. So why, when my hand passed through your shoulder, did I feel so guilty?” 

Techno paused for a moment, clearly calculating his next words. “Because I failed.” He finally stated, the words flat. Heavy. “Because he overpowered me and _normally,_ that wouldn’t be a big deal except for the fact that Tommy needed me, that _you_ needed me. And I failed you. You lost your wings because of _my_ mistakes.” He paused, sighing as the weight of those thoughts escaped his mouth. “I don’t even want to know what he took from Tommy.” 

Phil froze, his shoulders tensing. _Oh god, oh fuck. He didn’t know about Tommy._

Slightly confused at the quiet, Techno glanced at him again. “Speaking of, where is he? It’s far too peaceful and organized for him to be here.” 

The breath that Phil took to steady himself was slightly shaky. He could barely make eye contact with Techno, who he knew was watching him, waiting for a response. “He’s...gone. Dream got him right after you.” The words were bitter in his mouth. He hated them, hated that they were true. 

The news seemed to affect Techno like a physical blow. He clearly had not been expecting that. His shoulders caved inwards and his face crumpled, reminding Phil of a day years ago, when a young Techno had approached him with hunched shoulders and a mind burdened with far too many voices. 

Now, though, he was simply processing. Phil knew that, and gave him space to do so, ignoring the urge to comfort him. It wasn’t what he needed right now. 

After a moment, he chuckled bitterly. “So this is a punishment, then. I failed to protect, to do what the voices asked of me, and this is what I get for it.” He looked at Phil, and his gaze was _haunting,_ the look of a worn-out warrior who had lived a harrowing life. All for nothing. 

“The voices are cruel, Phil.” He rasped. “They ask for revenge, _scream_ for blood, and that’s the one thing I can’t give them anymore.” 

The defeat in his voice was something Phil had only heard a few times, and it sent a chil down his spine. This wasn’t right. 

It hadn’t been Techno’s fault. 

“Techno, don’t blame yourself for this. You fought the best you could, mate, and sacrificed more than you ever should have had too. I wasn’t there to help like I told you I would.” He had hoped that the words would soothe the rampant thoughts in Techno’s brain, but it seemed to do the exact opposite. Techno’s face contorted in frustration. 

“No, Phil, you don’t understand! _I_ was the one who separated the group, _I_ was the one who _fucked everything up._ I made Tommy angry, and he ran off insisting that he didn’t need my help, and I followed him without _telling_ you. I just assumed that you or Wilbur would notice and follow. But only Wilbur tagged along, and I was too focused on getting Tommy to calm down that I wasn’t listening to Wilbur saying you were calling for him but he couldn’t find you. By the time we did, you were already gone. All we found were a couple of bloody feathers from your wings and your sword.” Techno winced as he recited the memory, a hand coming up to rub one of his temples as if trying to soothe a headache. 

“Voices acting up?” Phil questioned, trying to ignore the pit in his stomach at the thought of his feathers laying on the ground and his sword being kicked away from him. 

Techno nodded. “They’ve been...loud since I found you. They’ve always liked you, Phil. Right now, they’re yelling at me about how I messed up, screaming about how you look so different without your wings- wait. That’s why you were trainin’, isn’t it.” 

Phil nodded. Silence fell, somber and heavy. 

“Look at us. Look how far we’ve fallen. We were warriors, feared and respected. People always knew that where I was, Philza would be close by. Now, we’re two broken nobodies, too far into our own guilt to accept anything other than our own faults.” Techno looked tired. He had given up completely, and Phil hated it. 

“We have to try.” Techno glanced at Phil as he spoke, looking slightly confused. “We can’t just let Dream do what he’s done and not face the consequences.” Phil wasn’t sure where this confidence was coming from. Maybe it was the resigned look in Techno’s eyes and the way his hands were absently running over the edge of his cape, which he only did when he felt out of place. 

Maybe Techno’s words were forcing him to fall into the role of a father again. 

“But I can’t fight at all, and you barely can. How are we supposed to make him face the consequences like this?” 

Phil smiled sadly. Techno was a genius, for sure, but he had a tendency to get wrapped up in his own mind to the point where he could often miss the most obvious solutions. 

“Techno, you may not be able to _hold_ a weapon, but you are still an incredible fighter. And I could use a second set of eyes to tell me where I’m fucking up.” 

“Oh. That’s- that’s a good idea. I’m slightly embarrassed I didn’t come up with that.” 

“It’s alright. You’ve been through a lot, mate. Come on, let me try this one again so you can see what I’m doing wrong.” He grabbed his sword as he spoke. Techno nodded, seeming to take a moment to clear his head before stepping into the clearing. 

“Go ahead. I’ll try my best.” 

Phil gave him one quick nod before turning back to the straw practice dummy, getting a comfortable grip on his sword. One hand above the other. Deep breath in, out. Focus. 

He started with the basics, trusting that Techno was watching every movement. 

_One, two._

The simple swings were easy. He did it again.

_One, two. Three._

Here it was. That one maneuver that he couldn’t quite do. He tried it, and his feet scuffed and he was just _barely_ not in the right position. His limbs felt clunky and horribly useless. 

With a sigh he turned to face Techno, whose face was creased in concentration. Phil only waited, knowing Techno was running over the movements in his mind. 

“You’re off balance.” He muttered. “You’re carrying yourself as if your upper body is heavier than it actually is, which makes sense, considering you’ve spent your whole life with wings. So, you have to learn to fight without them. Stand with your feet, uh…” He paused, glancing at his hands like he was trying to visualize something. “Ugh, it’s hard to put into words, here.” He shifted, his body flowing into an incredibly familiar fighting stance. 

Phil listened, trusting in Techno’s ability. This continued for a while. Phil would adjust, try again. Listen to Techno’s instructions, repeating until the sun had drifted a fair distance across the sky. Phil was slightly weary, but he had improved already. His feet felt less like dead weights, almost to the point he had been at before. 

Techno looked less tense, spending time joking and working towards a goal seeming to have calmed both his worries and the voices. 

“Let’s call it there, Tech,” Phil suggested after a particularly good attempt. He took a chance to catch his breath as Techno nodded. 

“Alright.” He turned his gaze to the afternoon sky, noting the movement of the sky. “Probably a good idea.” He said after a moment. “There’s a storm comin’ in.” 

“How do you know?” The sky above Phil looked totally clear, so he was slightly confused. 

Techno responded by pointing past the treeline, where, if Phil looked and craned his neck, he could see dark, angry. 

“Oh. Guess that’s pretty telling.” 

Techno grinned. “Yeah, that and-” He stopped, abruptly, his head snapping towards the path that lead to Phil’s little house. Phil had fought enough battles at his side to know that he heard something unnatural. A threat, possibly. Techno’s hearing has always been scarily good. 

“Two people, coming this way, fast.” The information tumbled from his mouth as if he was saying it as soon as the thought registered. “One of them is...really tall.” 

“I’m not sure who it is. Only person who knows where this place is is Tubbo.” He fell into the rhythm of a fight easily, relaying information quickly as he held his sword before him in a defensive position. Though Techno couldn’t fight, he could still help, which he seemed to understand as he stepped back and blended into the treeline to keep lookout. 

After a couple of seconds, Phil also picked up on the footsteps. Techno was right, they were moving _very_ quickly. The possibilities of danger were particularly high, if he was being honest. 

Only a few more moments passed before the pair burst through the trees. Phil recognized them instantly. Tubbo and the towering figure of Ranboo, both extremely winded with looks of panic on their faces. 

Phil lowered his sword with a sigh of relief. “It’s safe, Tech.” He called, waving a hand. Tubbo had seemed prepared to say something, but when Techno stepped into view, his face fell. 

“T-Technoblade?” His eyes were wide with disbelief, and Ranboo, currently standing behind him, looked extremely confused. 

“Hey, kid,” Techno responded with a slightly awkward smile, coming to stand beside Phil. Tubbo turned to look at Phil as well, and his face was brightening as he glanced around the clearing. Oh no, this wasn’t going to be good. 

“Is Tommy here too?” He asked, and his voice was hopeful, lighter than it had been since, well, since _that_ day. Phil wondered if he was strong enough to tell Tubbo the truth, to watch the joy leave his eyes. 

“He’s...we haven’t seen anything of him, Tubbo.” He hated how Tubbo’s face crumpled, hated how the boy curled in on himself as the grief crashed over him all over again. _Shit,_ Phil had to fix this, say something to help. “Tubbo, wait, that doesn’t mean he _won’t._ He might, I’d say there’s a good chance he will.” Tubbo looked at him again, and the pain that was scrawled over his whole face broke Phil’s heart. 

“But why? Why, Phil? Why hasn’t he come back yet? Doesn’t-” He broke off, his voice cracking and trembling. He was holding back tears. “Doesn’t he want to come back? Doesn’t he miss me?” 

Oh. Oh, _no,_ that wasn’t true at _all._

Ranboo was staring at Tubbo, his hands hovering awkwardly over Tubbo’s shoulder, trying to decide how to comfort his almost-in-tears friend. 

“Tubbo, I’m sure that’s not the case.” Phil softened his voice as he walked over to Tubbo, carefully placing his sword on the ground. He rested a hand on Tubbo’s shoulder, causing him to look up. There were tears welling in his eyes. “I’m positive he misses you, Tubbo. We don’t know how hard it is for him to come back, but I know he’s trying his best.” 

“Are...are you sure?” 

“Positive.” He offered Tubbo a kind smile, one that was returned, slowly. “Now.” Phil straightened, taking a step back to look at the pair. “What brings you two here in such a panic?” Tubbo looked slightly confused, his brow furrowing as he thought. 

“Oh! Uh...oh. Right.” Tubbo seemed to somber again, and there was... _fear_ in his voice. 

“What is it, mate?” 

Tubbo swallowed, clearing his throat. Phil glanced back at Techno, who was watching the exchange carefully. He shrugged slightly when Phil looked at him. He didn’t know either. 

Phil turned his attention back to Tubbo, apprehension flooding his thoughts as Tubbo clearly struggled with what he was trying to say. 

“Phil, it’s- Dream’s back.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated <33
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/watchmefail_ha)


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